The Black Notebook III: To Soothe the Savage Beast
by Celtic Knot
Summary: Sheppard's perspective on what may be the most controversial scene in the entire series. Spoilers for 'Instinct' and 'Conversion.' JohnTeyla.


**To Soothe the Savage Beast**

John Sheppard had hardly slept at all in the four or five nights since he'd become lucid again. Though the Iratus bug retrovirus had reduced him to only semi-sentience, he remembered all too clearly the things he'd done – or tried to do – while running on pure, uninhibited, animal instinct.

It was the "uninhibited" part that really frightened him. The idea that some part of him, some primitive area of his subconscious mind, actually _wanted _to do those things… That was what kept him awake at night.

"If you need anything, let me know, okay, Colonel?" Beckett had said. The doctor was standing over him now, checking the various monitors and writing notes on a chart.

Sheppard looked up at him with eyes that he knew were still catlike, with vertically slitted pupils and irises that were light brown instead of green. "Hey, Doc?" he said. "Can you do me a favor?"

"What is it, son?"

"Can you run down to my room and get me my journal?"

The journal had been Beckett's idea in the first place. Sheppard used it to write about things that he didn't want to talk about, but couldn't keep bottled up inside. Like his torture at the hands of the Genii. Like the little girl who had died saving his life.

Like slowly turning into a Wraith bug.

Beckett nodded his understanding. "Of course."

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You'll have to excuse the handwriting. My hand is still part bug, and my eyesight's a little weird – I can only see the lines on the page when I move the book. Everything's blurry, too. Must be like bees, that can't see anything unless it's moving.

At least I didn't develop compound eyes… just thinking about that makes me feel a little queasy.

But my DNA is slowly returning to normal, thanks to one of Beckett's medical miracles. What worries me is something altogether different.

Remember my first entry, where I mentioned that some experiences could teach you a lot about yourself? Well, this is another one. Except that last time, what I learned was something I could be proud of. What I learned this time, I can never share with anyone.

Beckett thought I couldn't hear him when he had that conversation with Elizabeth, when he told her what the retrovirus was doing, and I let them both continue to think that. He'd already told me. But even so, I couldn't suppress a shiver when he said, "If this is allowed to continue, he'll devolve into a creature similar to what Ellia became."

"Devolve" – what an ugly word. And yet, so appropriate to describe what happened to me. You know what freaks me out the most? It started before any of the physical transformations did. I was starting to operate on instinct, my inhibitions dissolving.

And I didn't even realize it.

I think Teyla has been avoiding me. I've been stuck here in the infirmary for nearly two weeks, and she hasn't come by. Not that I'm surprised – if I were her, I'd be avoiding me, too. What I did to her… what I _wanted _to do to her… was just inexcusable. No, that's not strong enough. Unforgivable is more like it. And then to run off to the infirmary and act like it never happened? It never even occurred to me that something was _really _wrong.

It scares the hell out of me to think that, even going as far as I did, I didn't lose complete control in that gym. God help me if I had… no, God help _her. _Even at that early stage, I realize now, the retrovirus had made me faster, stronger. If I had tried to… to force her, I don't think she would have been able to fight me. I could have hurt her, badly. I could have… I almost… I can't even write it.

The thing is… I wanted to. God forgive me, I wanted to. And I hate myself for it. I want to die. I'm glad she hasn't been around – if I were actually mobile, I'd be avoiding _her. _I don't think I'll ever be able to look her in the eyes again.

I don't think I deserve to. I was raised to have a special respect for women, and Teyla is no exception – just the opposite, in fact. But I _violated_ her. I can only hope she'll find it within herself to forgive me.

But I'll understand completely if she doesn't.

I certainly won't.

I care about Teyla, probably too much. I've long known that the most I could ever hope for was friendship, but now I'm afraid – no, terrified – that I've destroyed that relationship for good. She probably hates me… hell, _I _hate me. I just want this nightmare to end.

_One way or another, I want this nightmare to end._

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Sheppard's hand was shaking so badly by the end that the last few paragraphs were nearly illegible. He had barely covered two pages, and what he had gotten down hadn't helped at all. There were no words to express the depth of his utter horror and self-loathing. In a sudden burst of frustration, he slammed the black notebook closed and threw it at the far wall.

A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he sank down into the infirmary bed, wishing he could just… fade away, dissolve into air.

Beckett had some soft music playing around the corner. Sheppard thought of that old saying, "Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast." Well, _this _savage beast was not soothed in the slightest. The tune was a love song, and served only to remind him of what he'd irrevocably destroyed.

He clamped the pillow over his head and tried to sleep.


End file.
